lady of yngvi.

“It was…”

For you, he wants to say, because it had always been. From the first moment the Heal spell glowed warm upon his palm, his Faith had only been in her.

But the image of her first realization layers so incongruently over her face right now. She’d been happy, he remembers (believes?), had considered this a worthy present. Had understood, at least a little, of what he’d tried to tell her, even without those words.

Now, all he sees is shock and disbelief, that the ghost of her traitor little brother could possibly possess such a skill.

(Even if he says every single word he meant now, she would not believe him, would she?)

“…It was merely a fluke,” he says, and he releases his hold on her fully, pushing himself up and sliding away from Edain, “I was offered tutelage of an unfamiliar skill at a time I had little better to do, and I accepted. That is all.”

Expression almost regretful, his gaze flickers towards the fallen beast.

he calls it a fluke. like he’d never meant to save her at all. once again she was made to feel like she shouldn’t have hoped for him at all to care about her. “you….” she trails off, digging her nails into the dirt below— but the expression on his face makes her pause. just like when he was a child.

She's quick to follow her sister to the ground, protective arms immediately wrapping about the other woman to steady her. One moment she's taking a sip of the stew, and the next she's collapsing; it was all too sudden for Brigid to wrap her mind around, but once her twin starts getting wracked with haggard, all doubt is thrown to the wind.

Grimacing, she looks up at the pot. It wasn't just a foul taste or off ingredient—with this extreme of a reaction, something was deeply wrong.

"Water?! Right. Someon—"

She makes to bark orders to the people milling about the kitchen, but stops herself. If someone here had been callous enough to sabotage their food, whose to say they wouldn't do the same to the water?

Brigid shifts Edain so that she's leaned against the cupboards, jumping up to fetch a mug of water. The heat of the ovens, the stuffiness in the air. Every person she passes—some staring in confusion, others in alarm, a small amount annoyed by the way she runs into them—all of it wears at rapidly fraying nerves. What was wrong with the food? Had someone done something?

She's heard the whispers of pranks and petty feuds lately; did someone's Gods-damned childishness put her sister at risk?!

"Coming through!" She nudges through two cooks to reach the pail of water sitting in front of them, "Is this the water brought in from the well?!"

One blinks. "W-Well, yes, but—"

Grabbing a mug, she dumps it into the pail, and tests it with a sip. Nothing odd. So far. Heedless to the chefs' bemusement, she rushes back to Edain.

this is awful, she thinks, her vision blurring as she clutches her stomach and watches her sister run off to fulfill her request. peering into the kitchen, she thinks she sees someone in black and gold dashing off, pushing past the other would-be chefs in the kitchen.

but then brigid is back at her side with the glass of what she requested, obstructing her view and making her forget about them with what little strength of mind she has left.

"t-thank you..." she manages between coughs, gulping the water down like a woman who hadn't had anything to drink in days.

○○○○○ | ATTRACTION ○○○○○ | AFFECTION ○○○○○ | INTEREST ○○○○○ | LOYALTY ○○○○○ | TRUST

It is certainly hobbled, though, a spray of blood erupting from its throat with its next strangled screech, injured wings splaying out in an agonized threat display. The retaliating strike is swift, but if he could stop it…

The arrow flies off the mark completely, his chance to halt the creature’s approach towards Edain cut off as she screams out for him. His eyes widen, knowing the window for another attack had long closed.

He needs to reach her, to save—

Violet light pours from his fingertips without his conscious direction, and his mind tugs hard against that same resistance that it had always met.

something warm touches edain’s shoulder and she’s sent flying away from the crest beast. her body crashes into another, barely cushioning her fall. she pushes herself up in a manner that now has her uncomfortably straddling her little brother.

“andrei, you…” her voice trails off, eyes wide. he saved her life and now he had her wondering if he really did care for her after all. unfair. this is unfair..! why would he make her hope, in a situation like this?

the screech of the crest bird in front of them startles her and she looks up for a brief moment. it’s crashed into the ground, succumbing to its wounds and struggling to breathe. 

at some point the sound of clashing metal grabs her attention. she follows it until it gets louder and louder.

edain pauses in her little steps, peeking around the corner into the knights' training ground where the sound was coming from with a curious but tepid gaze. there were a few people training, but they didn't look like the beige ritter and they weren't using bows. no matter how she looked at it she wasn't home. she might not even be in yngvi anymore...!

but then where was she!? edain sniffles, trying to hold back the urge to cry. if her sister was here she'd know what to do, but she isn't..!

(The flash of crimson hair in a darkened cave lit only by a stripe of blue. Had that also been an illusion…?)

In that split second of lost focus, the beast bears down upon him, and he’s spared only a moment of alarm before both suddenly turn at Edain’s exclamation.

Is she trying to get herself killed??

The Crest Beast switches target with a screech, tail fanning out, and Andrei’s heart leaps to his throat at the thought of its next attack. Why would a healer like Edain do something so reckless, and without even making use of her limited archery skills?

(It couldn’t be for— no. To even entertain that hope is too dangerous.)

thump. thump.

her heart beats loudly as it stumbles against the ground to nurse its sudden new wounds— a limited window that allows for edain to knock an arrow despite having to fumble with it.

( then let ulir guide mine as well! )

she aims for its neck as it screeches in frustration, her hand following its ascension into the sky.

edain releases the arrow as it descends upon her, arrow embedding deep into its neck. it's a solid strike, but she gasps at the sight it gets her and steps back in shock. it's still going...!? she shuts her eyes tight, covering her head with her arms.

there wasn't anyone here to save her. there wasn't anyone but...